


In Which Bain has had Enough and Thranduil Terrifies some Bullies

by TheSnailQueen



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: But mostly fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Thranduil and Bain parental bonding, Thranduil is a protective papa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 02:31:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3191966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSnailQueen/pseuds/TheSnailQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first Bain had tried to ignore the jeers, the taunts that he was nothing, would amount to nothing and would always be in his fathers shadow. Then, when this didn't work (Bard had taught his son better than to give into petty insults and forced grievances and he was not about to give them the satisfaction of seeing him break) they picked a topic more inclined to test his patience. His fathers personal life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Bain has had Enough and Thranduil Terrifies some Bullies

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt X
> 
> An attempt was made, I hope you like it. 
> 
> Also, translations: 
> 
> titta mine = little one  
> ion nîn = my son

Bain was used to being invisible amongst his peers. Back when the residents of Dale lived in Laketown, before the dragon had been awakened, he’d been content to be ignored by the other boys and spent the majority of time with his Da, helping out where he could. Now though he was noticed, he was the son of the King of Dale, the mighty Dragonslayer and that earned him respect from some, and ire from others. Specifically one group of boys who had been in noble standing, or as close as Laketown came to it, before the attacks.

At first Bain had tried to ignore the jeers, the taunts that he was nothing, would amount to nothing and would always be in his fathers shadow. Then, when this didn’t work ( _Bard had taught his son better than to give into petty insults and forced grievances and he was not about to give them the satisfaction of seeing him break_ ) they picked a topic more inclined to test his patience. His father’s personal life, his ability to rule. How did it feel to have a father who had no dignity? Who would pander to the elves and their every whim. All of this the young boy could endure, even when it escalated to threats of physical violence after a lack of response. But Bain was fast and agile on his feet, having been taught by the best, so the threats were never met with naught but thin air.

However, the jabs that Bard was fucking the elven king for the power and status it gained him; that he was nothing but ‘The elf’s bitch’ were what had Bain finally snapping and rounding on his tormentors, rage bubbling under the carefully constructed façade. He would not tolerate this, how dare they?! It was one thing to taunt him, even to insult his father’s carefully constructed treaty with the elves, but to actively insult and throw shade on his father’s name, on Thranduil’s name? No, that was not to be tolerated, Bain had in fact grown to care very deeply for the man his father loved, he had become like a second father to him and so it was this that finally had him turning to retort.

“You don’t know anythin’! You've got no right to speak of my Da that way, or King Thranduil! They've got more honour and loyalty in their little fingernails than you've got in your whole body!” he took a step towards the shocked looking group of boys, eyes boring into the one who’d thrown the insult.

“And do you really think Dale would be as prosperous as it is without my father’s efforts? Without Thranduil? If you do then you’re denser than I had pegged you for Lyall” he spat the words, the mask slipping and his face contorting with anger. Thranduil had told him once, after having learned of a particularly bad incident with the bullies, that giving a reaction was the worst kind of response to any kind of unpleasant situation. Reactions gave people power over you and he had just let his guard down in front of a group of rowdy teenagers because he’d gotten angry.

It was obvious that Lyall had sensed this too because he sneered at Bain, advancing on the smaller boy with a look that promised Bain wouldn't be leaving this conversation without bruises “You think you’re so special don’t you? The slayers brat. Think you’re better than us?” Bain for his part said nothing, mainly because there was nothing he could say in response to something so untrue. His mind was racing a mile a minute as he backed up, the boys advancing on him until they were cornering him in one of the backstreet's just off the main square.

“Can’t have our future king getting to up ‘imself can we?” one of the other boys taunted and Lyall let out a laugh, the other boys snickering too as they closed off Bain’s escapes. He was starting to panic now, not entirely because of the imminent beating and more because he was being closed in on from all sides, something that had him flashing back to the battle of the five armies and it wasn't stupid teenage boys surrounding him any more, but sneering, spitting orcs and the fist raised against him may as well have been a sword. He began to shake, closing his eyes tightly and tensing in preparation for a blow he could not escape from.

However the blow never came. In fact an eerie hush had come over the rowdy group and unable to resist his curiosity, he managed to pull himself out of his defensive hunch and open his eyes. The site that greeted him was not what he had expected.

His attention was immediately drawn to Lyall’s still raised fist. Only now it was enclosed, rather hard if his whimpers were anything to go by, within an elegant long fingered hand adorned with a very familiar ring. Eyes darting up he found Thranduil standing just behind his tormentor, a vague, but unimpressed expression on his face as he arched a brow at the boy who was looking up at him in terrified awe.

He didn’t have to speak, merely lowered Lyall’s fist back to his side and dipped down low at the waist. His pale, utterly ice cold eyes locking with the boys who could do nothing but let out a pitiful whimper as all of his friends abandoned him, the Elven King’s presence alone proving too terrifying to handle. A silent, short conversation seemed to take place between Thranduil and Lyall before the boy broke eye contact and fled so fast he was almost a blur by the time he’d gotten to the end of the street.

Bain watched him go with a detached expression. Trying to process what had happened and how he could do better next time. He didn’t want to be in this predicament again. He was snapped from his thoughts by a hand brushing his cheek, looking up he could see Thranduil’s icy exterior fade now that they were alone, and his hauntingly pale eyes held nothing but concern for Bain. That alone nearly brought the boy to tears. It’d been a tough day.

“Are you alright, _titta mine_? Did they harm you?” the elf’s voice was soft and had a gentle edge to it as he looked Bain over with a critical eye. The boy shook his head, unable to speak. For a moment he just looked at Thranduil before the weight of everything that’d happened over the past few months came crashing down on him and the flood gates open. He let himself fall forwards, reaching out to bury his face into Thranduil’s chest and wrap his arms around him without any thought to how inappropriate it may be. He knew elves did not hug like other races did, but right now he was too far gone to care.

Thranduil for his part was a little surprised. As much as he had come to adore Bard’s children, he had learned that it was the girls who were always free with their affections, Bain had always been more cautious. Not out of dislike he knew, more out of unwillingness to offend. That seemed to have been a barrier crossed now as the boy wept against him, mumbling incoherent phrases he could barely hear even with his enhanced senses. Unable to stop the soft smile twitching at his lips he gave in, wrapping his arms around Bain and hugging him in return, trying to calm him as quietly as he could so as not to draw too much attention. If he knew Bain at all, the boy would be mortified if someone were to see him like this.

“They cornered me. I couldn’t stop them, I was back there. Back in the battle. I couldn’t do it, not again Ada I…” Bain mumbled against Thranduil’s chest a minute or so later, his breath still hitching from the tears now soaking through Thranduil’s robes. Predominantly his first reaction was concern for Bain, some kind of stress induced flashback of that horrific day? This was a discussion they would be having at another time, he knew.

But this did not mean the way Bain addressed him escaped his notice. It would be a lie to say that Thranduil’s heart didn’t swell a little at the use of the name. However he refrained from calling attention to it, instead opting for gently coaxing them apart so he could gently tilted the boys head up and gave him another reassuring smile “I am proud of you _ion nîn_ ”

Bain’s eyes were wide in surprise. He didn’t feel like he’d done anything to be proud of, though when he muttered as much Thranduil chuckled “I am proud of your humility, of your patience. I know how long those boys have been taunting you, even when you convinced your father they had stopped” he gave Bain a knowing look, lips twitching into a half smile that the boy returned with a watery one.

Giving a decisive nod Thranduil took a step back and turned towards the street, glancing down to his side where Bain was still sticking close “Come, let us return home. I was on my way there when I saw you. And I would wager your Da is wondering where his son is” in response to this Bain gave a weak laugh and a nod, following Thranduil as they began to make their way towards the home the King of Dale had claimed as his own.


End file.
